Tally
by kazillion
Summary: Todd had a tally of how many times Neil touched him.


Todd had a tally of how many times Neil touched him.

There had been the handshake.

There was the playful smack with a folder as an apology for Cameron. Todd didn't think that one counted. But just after, when Neil introduced him to the others, there was a hand on Todd's left arm.

Then there was the day Neil stormed into their room (Todd loved the sound of that – _their room_) with a flyer and thrust it into Todd's hands, beaming. If Neil had been the overexcited puppy he was acting like, his tail would have been wagging for sure. Neil never really touched him intentionally that time, there had only been the accidental brushing of blankets and hands and bodies during the stealing of notebooks.

But that was also the day Todd stood up as best as he could, finally saying something he'd always wanted to say. Neil speaks and people listen. He wasn't like that.

"Don't you think you could be?" Neil had asked.

No, Todd replied. But he could take care of himself. Leave him alone.

That was the furthest thing from what he really wanted.

Which was why when Neil gave him _that smile_ and said plainly, "No," Todd decided that was his favourite day.

When Neil returned from his final auditions the happiest Todd had ever seen him, he couldn't help but touch. Despite Todd's skepticism of the situation, he wanted to share in Neil's happiness and greeted his roommate at the door with a clasp on the arm and a brush of his hand on the small of Neil's back. He could feel the pure energy and glee through the fabric of Neil's jacket.

Todd wished he'd been the cause of it.

But there was also the day he was mortified. I didn't write a poem, he said. But Keating called him on it and made him want to die or be swallowed by the earth or anything but that humiliation.

He was smiling by the end, though. He had poured himself out and formed a puddle on the floor and was waiting during the stunned silence, waiting for someone to step on him, make him regret his past five minutes of existence.

When nothing came, he looked at Neil's face. Neil and his beautiful face affected by awe and what seemed to be heartbreak looking at Todd with an intense gaze that was better than any unintentional tallied touch.

Keating told him never to forget it. Todd knew he never would.

After that day, Neil started to touch him more. He leaned on Todd's shoulder during Knox's miraculous phone call, causing his hot breath to envelope Todd's neck. During an especially giddy moment, the soft tip of Neil's nose touched the nape of Todd's neck and made Todd shiver.

He tallied that one twice.

Todd didn't like the way Neil looked at him on his birthday, just after he figured aloud that his parents hadn't thought anything at all. Neil had given him a pity look. It was different than the other looks he had given Todd up until then, and Todd didn't like it. He didn't want pity. He wanted Neil to feel happy with him. He'd give anything to inspire awe in Neil again.

Todd had deflected the moment with a joke, and Neil caught on. It was strange. Neil didn't usually need words to understand. Todd hopes that it was because the other was distracted by the silent, loving waves flowing between them. But those could have been in Todd's mind only.

Then Neil made him laugh, and Todd loved to see Neil smile and loved how his face reflected in the plastic wrap on his unfelt gift.

Neil gave him power that night. The power to say no. The power to reject. The belief that he was better than he thought he was. Than his parents thought he was.

His parents would never know what they really gave him that night.

It wasn't physical, but it touched him nonetheless. So that night went on the tally, too.

That evening, Todd had to do some birthday trigonometry and couldn't understand because he didn't want to. He didn't care, and threw his pencil down and put his face in his hands, sighing. The warmest hands to ever touch him rested upon his shoulders, and he could hear Neil asking if he was alright, and did he need help? Todd replied that he'd never understand trig.

"No, I didn't mean trig," Neil had said. "You still hurt," he added to himself. Once again, Todd didn't understand, and said so.

"Your parents. You still hurt because of them."

"So do you. Because of yours. That means you need help, too." He was proud of himself to phrase it as a statement instead of a meek question. He'd never be meek again, not around _him_.

Neil didn't say anything. The heat went away and went to stand by the window, breath fogging the cool glass to opaqueness. Leaving his doubt behind with his homework, Todd went to stand by his best friend. Neil never turned, so he loaned his own heat instead. Standing inches behind him, Todd leaned in to Neil's ear and asked, hushed, "Can we help each other?"

Without any touching at all, Todd could still feel the other tense. For a painful minute, neither moved. Todd's calves started to ache from holding himself so close but still apart from his other.

A harsh breath startled him a step backward, which fit Neil just fine because then he had room to turn, though he wished Todd were closer, still.

"Todd, may I touch you?"

His heart started beating too hard for him to respond, but Neil managed to translate the choking sounds he made into the affirmative it was. And so Todd stood very still, not wanting to frighten the moment away, and watched Neil's right hand get closer to his cheek. A rough thumb traced underneath his eyelashes.

It was added to the list.

"Todd?" Eyes met. "Why don't you ever touch me?"

His mouth gaped open and no sound would emerge. He did so touch Neil. Didn't he? He kept count of every touch between them.

Neil continued, hand still in place. "I can count on one hand the number of times you have." Todd choked again. Neil counted, too? "Is it because you just don't touch people? Or do you not like being touched? Do you want me to stop?" The thumb and its fellow fingers had traveled behind his head to hold onto the hair at the base of his neck.

Frantic, he shook his head no. "Please, don't let go. Don't ever-" Todd stopped himself, eyes widening.

Had he just said that?

Judging by Neil's wide brown eyes, he had.

"Todd," he said slowly, and Todd wondered if Neil had always said his name like that. "I know I talk a lot, and that people listen, but I don't know what to say right now. But I am wondering how you feel about me."

Todd continued to stare, silently, into Neil's soft face. He wondered how _his_ cheek would feel. He tried to keep his eyes from flickering to the lips in front of him.

Neil swallowed hard. It was possible for him to be nervous? This didn't make Todd's ideal Neil fall by any means. He would rather worship this fallen, real idol than the god he started out as. It made Neil more touchable. Reachable. "Okay. I'm going to lean closer to you, and if you'd like to meet me halfway, that's fine. If you'd rather back away, that's fine, too. Okay?"

Todd managed a nod.

Neil nodded back, and licked his lips. Entranced, Todd mimicked unknowingly. Neil smiled.

"I think we'll be just fine," he said, and leaned in just as he said he would. A man of his word.

Not knowing if his eyes should stay open or be closed, he compromised with half-lidded ness and went to meet those lips in between their two shaking bodies.

There wasn't another moment to tally. The door swung open and Neil, always the quick thinker, forced a laugh and pushed Todd's head away gently, as if they had been roughhousing all along. As if Todd had said something unbelievable like _I love you_.

Knox never suspected anything.

It was the last moment to be tallied, that cheek-touch. Too many things happened to make Neil want anything again, Todd guessed. First there was Nwanda and the girls and the punishment. The terror of being found out. The Dead Poets suffering another demise. Captain's disappointment.

Then there was some unknown event to hurt Neil so deeply, he wouldn't even speak to Todd one night, even when he asked if it was alright to turn the light off to go to bed. Neil always turned the light off, but he had already been lying in bed, facing the bare wall. Todd had asked what happened, and tried to touch a shoulder, but Neil had rolled away and screwed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep, though both knew he was acting.

The play was tallied, though. Todd pretended that it was just for him, and he allowed all of those other people to see it, too. He knew half of the lines from helping Neil rehearse. It was his play as much as Puck's. He pretended it was Neil's way of apologizing for blowing him off the night before.

"_If we shadows have offended..."_

But Todd forgave him. He would always forgive Neil, even without an apology. He would just need to smile at him _that way_ and all would be forgotten.

He hated that he couldn't remember the last time he touched Neil. In the chaos that followed the play, Todd had brushed against many people, but he couldn't be sure any of them were his Puck. All he could do was stare after the car, praying Neil's sad face saw him and remembered him, hating himself for not knowing. By the looks of it, Captain was, too. But he was probably not wishing he could remember how Neil's body felt that last time they brushed against one another in the confines of a dorm room the way Todd was.

He hated Charlie, too, for telling him. For saying it so matter-of-factly, like there was no possible way he could be wrong. That it wasn't true. Hated that everyone knew before he did.

Charlie said no one wanted to tell him, because they were scared of how he would react. Todd thinks Charlie knew. Knox hung onto him in the snow, but Charlie was the one trying to understand. Maybe Neil had told him. But maybe there hadn't been anything to tell.

The Dead Poets weren't able to attend the funeral. Todd didn't know if he wanted to see a Neil void of everything, anyway. Neil was the embodiment life. A Neil without life wasn't Neil at all. Besides, Todd would have wanted to touch him, and he didn't think that he'd want to touch someone who wasn't really his Neil.

Todd would like to know what the last thing Neil felt was. How he felt wherever he was. Was he cold? Todd had taken the blanket from his bed and slept in his roommate's place instead. When the Captain visited him, to see how he was, he sat in the corner of Neil's bed, wrapped in Neil's blanket and asked how Neil felt at that moment. For once, the Captain didn't have an answer.

There was nothing but anger and accusation after that. Todd was glad Charlie hit Cameron. It saved him the embarrassment of trying. His world had died, the dust left was being taken away, his parents didn't see, and he couldn't feel.

It was eight in the morning when he was led to the office to be forced by his parent's faux concern to condemn his last bit of hope.

He peeked through the door of the Captain's office when he returned for a few belongings. He wanted to say everything in a glance, but was too ashamed to meet his eyes. But as Cameron droned about lines and ratings and lack of emotion, he couldn't stand it anymore, and had to say it. Nearly in tears, I'm sorry, they made us, I didn't want to, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Sit down and shut up.

He did.

But Neil was there. The tip of his nose touching the crook of his neck. There was a hand on his shoulder and warm breath in his ear. _You know what to do_, he said.

And so he stood up for himself as best he knew how, with Neil giving him _that smile_ and Todd could feel the waves of excitement and pride that he _knew_ he was the cause of.

Todd smiled and added it to the tally.


End file.
